


I don't need you.

by AraneaNemesis



Series: Stories We Invent – The Fourth Weaver's Tale [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fighting, Loki almost does what he wants, Loki's point of view, Odin is a manipulative father, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-17 11:59:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraneaNemesis/pseuds/AraneaNemesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has found the perfect way to dispose of the annoying little mortal: he will take her to Jotunheim and let the Frost Giants do the dirty job.<br/>But events do not unfold as he had planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked me to write the end of Is This For Real from Loki's point of view. This happened. I hope you enjoy reading these two chapters as much as I liked writing them!

“– you had no idea what you were talking about!” Loki yelled at her. She was staring at him, her black eyes opened wide as she took in his new appearance. He still wasn’t sure whether the impression of should-be-cold inside his veins was reality or a figment of his imagination, but he knew what he looked like, now. When a smile appeared on her lips, he understood he had won. She started walking towards the Frost Giants impeding his movements.

    She was doing it. She was attacking. Insignificant little creature, far too weak to stand the cold, and yet she advanced towards her enemies with a steady determination he never thought she would be capable of mustering. But then again, he had worked hard for such a surge of courage to happen in her. She was too clever to be hot headed or brave, but he’d managed to tangle her into her own web, taking time, step by step, watching her create her own illusions about him. Little weaver…

    Every one of her steps now indicated she had fallen into the trap of thinking he needed to be understood. Of course she had, every one of his words and actions had been honed, chosen carefully to tangle her in that belief. How he had relished the proud look on her face when he’d apparently let her catch a glimpse of his so-called wounds, winning over her mind and body until she was all his.

    And now she was getting ready to wield her unruly power at those who attacked him, even if she didn’t stand a chance, calm and concentrated on the outside but utterly chaotic under the surface of her smile, in the same way she had confronted the Allfather’s power. On that day, he had sensed for the first time the waves of raw power suddenly unleashed from her body, radiating all the way into the semi consciousness he was dwelling in, compelling him to make the extra effort he wasn’t sure was worth the try and open his eyes again. Half-broken purple waves wreathing inside her, he could feel it.

    And yet, as she walked towards him, he couldn’t help the nagging impression that she wasn’t fooled anymore. That she had been, at first, but had seen through it all. And still decided to play along.

    _“I’m not sacrificing my life to protect the world from your anger. I’m not deciding to be the comforting shoulder you can cry on when you’ve been vexed. I was doing this for my own agreement, for the mere satisfaction I felt when I was with you. I’m being selfish; I want you all to myself, I don’t want to share you.”_

That was what she’d said, not an hour ago. She made it clear; she was there because she wanted to. Or so she thought.

    He couldn’t resist testing her. “This is what I am,” he shouted over the wind. “A monster. I’ve tried to forget it; I couldn’t. I tried to pretend I wasn’t; it was a mistake. I tried to live up to it. I failed. But now I am here and I understand something too. I don’t want you to make me look like anything else. I don’t need you, Eileen Weaver. You don’t have to write my story anymore.” _I never needed you._

    And still she walked, without a word. The cloak he’d found for her flapped loudly and the wind unclasped it from her shoulders, leaving her in the evening dress with the golden snake neckline. The fabric, covered in ice, clung to her body. She didn’t as much as shiver. Two giants seized her and she absorbed the pain with a slow shudder. Volstagg had complained a lot about the sharp stinging of the burn. Loki knew she didn’t handle pain very well. But she ignored it and her captors struggled to keep her still.

    It wouldn’t last very long, now. They both knew it. He smiled. There was nothing he liked more than reading of the resignation in someone’s eyes, when they realized they had just been tools, little pawns on his chessboard. And Eileen added a faint glow of self-satisfaction to her surrender, despite the cold, despite the pain, despite her imminent death at the hands of monsters she couldn’t comprehend.

    Again, he congratulated himself at that change in her personality: he had made her ready for self-sacrifice, the very thing she loathed, the very act they both mocked in heroes. For him. Him only. He almost laughed at the frail woman dying of cold under his eyes.

    “Get her closer,” the giant said. “Let her see him. Make her feel the cold.” The situation had been much improved compared to its state only a handful of minutes before. These beasts were as stupid as he’d remembered. They placed her just in front of him. “If she kills him,” the giant whispered, “let her.”

    _Oh, but she won’t kill me_ , he thought. _She will smile at me and turn to you and lash out. She will make you kill her, right under the Allfather’s eye._ Odin was seeing everything, he knew. Asgard would have to react, and Loki would be free. Free from Eileen, free from the Giants, free from the promises he’d let her make in his name. Free to attack the humans as soon as Thanos was defeated.

    She was still standing there, doing nothing but looking at him. She seemed slow and numb, her eyelids opening and closing unhurriedly as they protected her eyes from the wind.

    The most difficult about all this would have to pretend being devastated. _The best lies always have truth in them_ , the sarcastic twist of her mouth seemed to whisper. He would have shrugged if he could. He would have to bear the sympathy of his mother, of his so-called friends, of… of Thor. He repressed the grimace. But it was a small price to pay to earn his place back in Asgard.

    “You are an idiot,” he screamed at her. “You should have run away when they told you to. I’ll hold them back, you can still leave.” He waited for the attack his words were meant to provoke.

    “Never,” she answered. He saw the power flicker a little in her pupils as she placed her hands around his face. _What is she doing?_ She wasn’t going to fight? The sizzle of her skin being frosted over by his own filled his ears, mingling with the Giants’ insufferable laughter. She trembled and breathed out slowly, looking into his eyes. _Nothing to lose_ , her demeanour screamed at him.

    And he understood. “No,” he said before he knew why. “It will kill you.” That wasn’t the plan, wasn’t the idea. She was supposed to fight. To get herself killed. Not –

    “I hope so,” was her only answer before she captured his lips. She whimpered in pain, but he couldn’t help the warm triumph in his chest.. Too proud to run away, too weak to defeat the Giants, too far gone into madness to wait for help. So she resigned. In the most beautiful and stupid and satisfying way. The Giants were laughing louder. _Let them laugh_ , her kiss said. _You win in the end._

    This time she wasn’t ruining the plan, she was improving it, saving him from the responsibility having her fight for him. When she died, it would be her fault, her own bad decision. He felt proud of how their two intelligences had completed each other in that case.

    He gave in to the kiss, tasting her one last time before the end, closing his eyes to savour that last gift she made him. A gift she must have known was his to claim anyway. He had been the one to bring her back to life, after all, to offer her so much when she was nothing. He took her last breath as he’d stolen her screams of pain and pleasure, and her tears, and her anger, and everything else. His Eileen. _Loki,_ her voice echoed in his memory.

    Confusedly, he imagined he would have liked to hear his name roll on her tongue again. But it was too late for that, her tongue was a ruined mess now. Delicious intensity in the final contact with her skin. But she was falling, her lips were gone. And he missed them already. Instinct made him double over to catch her back. In vain. She was crumpled on the ground, in the snow, motionless, staring at him, her exhausted and empty eyes whispering goodbye. She was dying.

    His Eileen was dead.

    It came to him sharp as a stab, shameful as a sickness, clear as ice water melting in the spring.

    He didn’t want her to be dead.

    He wanted her to live. He didn’t know why, he didn’t comprehend why, he didn’t even care why, he wanted her alive and at his side.

    He looked at her figure curled up in the snow, at her ravaged face and arms, her blackened throat, and he noticed a faint pulse, a shallow respiration. She could still live, she could still do it, if he moved with sufficient speed. She wouldn’t disobey his will and die, now that he wanted her alive. She would do what he wanted; she died at his command, she fought at his command, she survived at his command. His Eileen.

    A Giant had noticed her breathing too and was bending over her, curiously. “No!” Loki heard himself shout at the top of his lungs. He realized he was on the brink of ruining his plan. A split-second later, it was too late already, he _had_ ruined his plan as he conjured up five projections of himself to distract the idiots’ attention and allow him time to steal one of their weapons. He sent a blade into the one bending over Eileen, and the giant fell just next to her. She didn’t seem to register it. Her pupils were still locked on his face, but he couldn’t feel her power anymore. It was gone. And if that was gone… It was impossible; he didn’t want it that way. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!” he ordered her.

    Something hit his back with high speed and violence, sending blinding pain throughout his body. He whirled and struck his attacker as hard as he could with the heavy, badly balanced spear he’s stolen, but three others were closing on him. He would never make it back to Asgard in one piece, he realized. The plan had been to wait for Odin to arrive and witness the Barbary of the giants. But now he couldn’t afford to wait. Any other minute of delay would kill her. He cast a quick glance at her and saw her eyes had closed.

              There was only one thing to do. “Heimdall,” he called out, “if you can hear me, send for help.” He panted. “Father, I need you,” he added before he changed his mind.

    But nothing happened. There was no bright flash, no –. He speared a giant, then another, trying to see where they came from and survey the empty sky at the same time. He sent two blades into the shadows, knowing he was outnumbered anyway, that if someone, anyone, didn’t come to his help soon he would die. He had been wrong, he slowly understood; he was making mistakes again, just like on Earth. The ugly truth dawned on him: they were not coming. Not to help her. Not to help him.

    He swore. “What would you do if it wasn’t me? How long would it take you if it was anyone else asking for your help?”

    Loki looked at the sky again, blinking away the sting of snowflakes the wind propelled into his eyes, and he considered staying there, letting the giants destroy him, allowing what should have happened all those centuries ago if it hadn’t been for what the Allfather called mercy, a mercy that had caused more pain and deaths than if he’d slit that blue baby’s throat open. _Mercy is overrated_ , he heard Eileen laugh inside his skull.

    “Father, please!”

    But he couldn’t say more. He couldn’t beg for help, if that was what they were waiting for. He could repent; Thor had done it, believing it could help. But if Loki said he repented, just when his life was threatened, nobody would believe him. They would expect a lie, and they would be right to.

    No; Loki would never redeem, he would never regret, he would never even pretend to be sorry. If they wanted him to feel responsible for Eileen’s death, they would have to wait a long, long time. He yelled out in rage. “Watch me die, then. Watch others carry out the death sentence you could never bring yourself to utter. And this time, she will not be there to reproach you with it, I will not be there to make you pay. Nobody will!”

    He caught two arm-thick icicles and cast them back in one movement. He couldn’t bring his body _not_ to fight, it seemed. But a third ice dagger struck him in the face; his warm blood gushing melted the pieces of ice away, trickling down his cheek, and he whirled again, trying to see where Eileen was. He had been stupid, reckless, no better than Thor. The woman was dead anyway, and it was all her fault, she should have obeyed his plan. He felt death closing on to him too, the taste of his own blood seeping through his lips overwhelming the smell of snow and ice and giant. If she hadn’t been so insolent, maybe someone would have wanted to save her despite her belonging to the Liesmith.

    He heard a deafening crash. A blinding light filled the world, causing the Giants to shriek, and he glimpsed Mjolnir flying through the night. Thor had come. At last.

    Loki closed his eyes for half a second to stay concentrated. He needed to process what was whirling inside him or he would die stupidly.

    His brother was there. He hated the relief it brought him. He hated hating the relief, because without Thor, Eileen would die and he didn’t want her to die.

    He hated that he didn’t want her to die. He hated the idea of her staying dead. He hated the world for not simply obeying his command. He hated everything and everyone, and he didn’t have time to cave in to hate right now. It would have to wait. He buried everything deep inside him and flashed his eyes open, stabbing another giant, drowning the hate in the enemy’s screams.

    Thor landed next to him, hammer in hand, ready to fight, ready to kill. “Others are coming,” the blonde god said. Loki nodded and gripped a throwing dagger tighter. _Others? What others?_ Had they been convinced by his speech? How many had deigned speak up to come and help him, once he’d humiliated himself under their eyes?

    And all these blue aberrations, coming from everywhere. This would never have happened if Thor had let him destroy the planet. But Thor was helping, he needed his sibling, so he swallowed the biting remark. “This doesn’t change anything,” Loki murmured. “I will not thank you.”

    Thor didn’t as much as smile. “I know. She will.”

    _Oh, I don’t think so_. But again, seeing the hammer was spinning in his brother’s hand, Loki kept his lips tightly shut. He darted his eyes left and right, assessing the enemies’ positions, selecting his next target. Both brothers sprung at the same time.

    There was another flash of light while they fought their way in the snow, and Loki glimpsed soldiers, many soldiers, more than was necessary, and Balder, the Warriors Three, and Sif who was already running towards Thor, and Odin, gesturing orders with Gungnir. Loki stifled the surge of envy at the sight of this spear, symbol of power he _had_ held for a short moment, and called out. “Father!”

    Odin didn’t as much as signal he’d heard. But Loki didn’t care; he had seen Balder hurrying towards Eileen’s limp body. He was there in two strides, as the fair warrior picked her up. “She’s a block of ice, Loki,” he said. “It’s too late!”

    Who did he think he was addressing? “It is not too late. I have to take her back at once, we have what is required to treat her. I know what to do.”

    “You know how to bring people back to life?”

    _She is not dead_! He closed his hand around Balder’s jaw. “I know of things you wouldn’t dare have nightmares about,” he seethed. “I want her to live and she will live.” The other nodded, and Loki let go of him before his arms grew too weak and he dropped Eileen.

    “I’ll take her back, I swear it,” Balder said. “But don’t blame me if you find her dead when you arrive, because she already is.”

    Loki had gone too far into this madness now to risk ruin it by slaughtering the very ones he called to, but this other provocation he found difficult to ignore. Fortunately, Thor noticed the strain on his brother’s face and interfered. “Sif, I need you to make sure Balder can leave safely with Eileen.” Loki resisted, but the god of thunder was far stronger than him and he was dragged away from the receding figures, away from the burnt body in another man’s arms. “Brother, look at me!” He obeyed. “You have to stay and fight with us.” Walls crumbled around them, rubble echoing down the deep chasms scarring the planet.

    Loki couldn’t stay here another minute. “I’m the only one who knows how to –”

    “Manipulate a warming stone? No, the healers can do that too. You can’t flee now.”

    _I flee if I want to._ But his retort was overridden by Odin’s voice, echoing everywhere on the battlefield. “Peace! I command you to cease the fight at once!”

    Everyone halted and looked at him as his words worked their magic. _He believes saying is doing_ , Eileen had mocked the Allfather. She didn’t know how just her remark was, and how wrong she’d been to make fun of it. When the god of War and Poetry commanded, the world obeyed. Nothing described the idea of irrevocable better than hearing him say, ‘So be it.’ Performative speech, he called it, and Loki envied that even more than the throne. He shrugged Thor’s hand away and they drew closer to the Asgardian lines.

    “This is ridiculous. I have more pressing matters to tend to than clearing the terrible misunderstanding that has triggered this catastrophe, but I fear the peace between our worlds is, once again, at risk. We only came to defend ours, and I will take my army back to Asgard immediately. But I will return, alone. This is not finished,” he concluded

    _Back to Asgard,_ Loki was repeating to himself. _Back to Asgard, back to Eileen, back immediately. Far from this place._

    “But, Father, –” Thor protested.

    _No, this idiot is not making me stand yet another battle here._ Loki steeled himself and laid a hand on Thor’s arm. He swallowed. “Brother.” Their eyes met. Loki thought he might flinch, lose control, smash the other’s face. But he resisted. He could do it, he could lie some more, tell this little lie once again, this one lie that worked wonders and would always work, he hoped, even if at that moment it seemed to cost him so much more than usual to admit he needed his fool of a sibling to get what he wanted. “Please,” Loki whispered. He could feel all the others waiting, both armies poised in between bouts of slaughter, suspended to their silent argument. 

    Thor looked at his brother’s face, at the slight tremor agitating the hand on his arm, at the blood on his face, and the madness in his eyes. Loki let him observe and even closed his fingers a little tighter, as if in an uncontrolled spasm.

    Thor lowered his gaze and nodded. Loki felt his eyes close. He was exhausted. He couldn’t afford being exhausted.

    “Asgard will pay for this with more than a few lives,” Helblindi rumbled. “Maybe not today, or even tomorrow. But you will have to answer for our dead.” The red eyes stared straight at Loki, who looked back. He knew they would never have him. Jotunheim disappeared in a flash of light.

    They were all back on the Bridge the next instant. Loki didn’t wait for the Allfather to dismiss the troops and cut through the crowd of anxious citizens to reach the healing room and make sure he hadn’t done all this for nothing.

    He would never have thought of himself as slow, and yet he felt he was moving in congealed molasses, every step a struggle, a taunt at his hurry, the bridge stretching forever under his feet, ten times, a hundred times its normal size. He had to reach the room. If Eileen died, it would be a personal blow Death was dealing him. And not even Loki could fight Death. He walked faster.

    The Palace seemed quiet after the shrieking winds of Jotunheim. “Wait!” his father’s voice echoed in the empty corridor. “We must talk.” Loki cast a quick glance over his shoulder but didn’t slow down. He even extended his strides, somehow hoping the old man would not be able to catch up. Ever. “Even if she lives, Loki, I might not want her to stay.”

    Loki froze and waited. No, not again. Wasn’t it enough? Wasn’t it time it ended, that perpetual hindering of his wishes? He had already debased his dreams so much, he wasn’t asking for power or pardon or respect; he was asking for a woman’s life. Was it so hard for them to understand that for once, they could grant him what he desired?

    When Odin caught up, he peered into his son’s eyes. “Or she might want you dead.”

    Loki’s jaw clenched. “I can take care of her wanting me dead,” he mumbled. “But you must allow her to stay in Asgard.”

    “Why, Loki?”

    He realized he didn’t know what to answer. No, not exactly. He knew what he wanted to answer, but he wasn’t sure it would serve his purpose. He didn’t know what the Allfather expected of him. “You didn’t give me any reasons when you presented the choice to me the first time, but they existed all the same. I believe they must be valid still.”

    “You made your choice at that moment. It was merely a few hours ago. What has changed? What happened?” There was silence. “Is half a night in her bed enough to win you over?”

    Loki stared in horror, the controlling forces over him straining under the repeated assault of the hatred swirling inside his head. He took in a little air; he couldn’t let his father make him angry. “That is not why I want her to stay.” _Not only._

    Odin smiled. “I know.” There was a short pause. “Tell me,” he commanded.

    The words spilled out by themselves, extracted from his mouth. “I can’t accept her death or her departure,” Loki heard himself say, for once guileless. “I wish she could remain at my side.” He was surprised; he had imagined these words would sound so much more ridiculous.

    “Your wishes might be insufficient reason for her to stay.”

    Loki felt a sort of pain that didn’t seem to originate from any of the battle wounds. Why did his father keep reminding him of this possibility? He jerked his chin up to answer, “She will stay!”

    “Why? Will you _make_ her?”

    _If needed._ “She said she wanted to.” At one point, she had.

    “That was before you took her to a certain death.”

    Loki’s head snapped to the side so he could see his father’s face properly. “I didn’t lead her to death. She decided to die on her own. She died for me,” he added, pride streaking his voice.

    Odin smiled. “Did she? What do you mean? Her death wasn’t going to serve you, was it? She didn’t fight to free you, Asgardian soldiers did.”

    Loki understood his father wanted him to explain. But he couldn’t. If he exposed his plan, he would have to start preparing again. So he walked away.

    “Loki!” The voice stopped him. “She would never have died for nothing. She knew you were going to use her death. Why was she so sure her suicide at your… hand would be so useful?” Loki glared. “Tell me, and I will let her stay.” No, he couldn’t be asking that of him. Not yet another choice. There were always choices. “I shall grant Eileen Weaver a place at your side, I swear it, but first you must tell me what your purpose was when you took her to Jotunheim.”

    Frustration threatened to overwhelm him again. He looked at the king, wishing he could kill right now and be done with it.

    “I beg you not to hate me, Loki.” _How can I not hate you?_ “I’m trying to make sure your sudden urge to keep her does not well from yet another twisted calculation. The probability that I should refuse you is high, and you could wear that disappointment as proof I have never loved you.

 Loki smiled slyly, trying his best to hide that even such satisfaction would never compensate for letting her go. “You are putting her life in the bargain. What if I refuse?” _Say it, confess that you want her to die, say that taking her from me just as I accepted her seems to be an appropriate punishment._

    “I value her life more than she does.” Odin sighed. “I’m just placing her presence among us in the bargain. Your secret plans, or your Eileen with you, at all times. Or until she grows tired of you,” he added.

    Loki dismissed the twinkle of malice in that cold, single eye. His plans or his Eileen. Choices. How he loathed choosing.

    Which of the two would be the easiest to retrieve if he gave up on it? If he kept Eileen, she would be a liability, a weakness. Or at the very least, everyone would see her as such, and he couldn’t let that happen. They would be right, she already was a weakness: he was considering giving up on his secrets to keep her with him.

    And yet, she had power. The Allfather had given her a sort of power, unidentified for the moment, but it could be harnessed, honed, perfected. She could learn. She could become an asset; an asset disguised as a dent in his armour. She was hard and unforgiving; he would only have half the work to do. If she survived.

    “Can she live?” he asked.

    “Yes, I swear it.”

    _You swear a lot, today, Allfather._ He had planned to save Asgard from Thanos and start anew, with a clean slate.

    But that he could live without.

    He still dreamed of becoming King.

    _You will never be King, Loki,_ he heard Eileen’s voice repeat.

    If he gave up on his plans, he would have her to make new ones. If he gave up on Eileen and she had been right about his struggle for power, he would have nothing left.

    If she had been right. Could he trust her? _Trust her…_

    He would make her explain why she’d said that. And if she’d been wrong, she would pay for luring him into choosing her. He would make her beg; _until I cry for mercy and then start again_ , she’d said. He would make her plead at least once more. And many other times. He would make her breathless from crying his name.

    That he wasn’t sure he wanted to live without.

    There wasn’t much of a choice left to make.

    He took a deep breath. “I wanted her to fight at my side and die, wanted the Giants to be responsible for her death and force them to repay this debt by serving us for eternity. I also – wanted her to see what I truly was.” _I am… I am unable to tell you what I wanted,_ he almost confessed, realizing as he was voicing the words that his scheming was far below his own standards. What had he been doing? What had crippled his intelligence so much?

    “Had you planned all this? It seems to me that you didn’t even want this to work, Loki.”

    _I had planned everything!_ He didn’t know how exactly, he didn’t remember, it had made sense at the time, he could have sworn it was clean and clear when Eileen had come back from the garden. “She was angry. Stronger. Thor had told her I didn’t want her here, and she had become uncontrollable. I needed a clean, quick way to dispose of her.” _Thor had told her, making her want to leave and I could not accept it._ “She had to die,” he added.

    “But then you changed your mind,” Odin pointed out. Loki nodded. It hadn’t been the first time he wanted to kill her, it seemed logical. “Loki, you should have understood you didn’t really want that woman dead when you found you were unable to execute her yourself.”

    _I refuse to grace this with an answer,_ Loki decided.

    Odin clicked his tongue. “She’s proud. You will have to ask.”

    “She won’t refuse. This is too big an opportunity for her.”

    “You can’t know what is going through her mind…”

    Loki looked away to conceal the smile; he had expected the bait. “But _you_ can.”

    “Do you want me to pry and tell you? She will not take kindly to it and you’ll have to face her reproach it if she knows.”

    Loki hesitated. “I want her to stay,” he eventually said. “I need to know what will convince her, what she expects as it crosses her mind.”

    Odin looked at his son for a long time. He was clearly trying not to smile too much when he spoke. “To the healing room.”

    Loki didn’t stop to think about saying thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

Hearing his father walking next to him towards the room was not a pleasing sound, but he needed the Allfather’s ability to read people’s thoughts now, to secure Eileen’s answer. Once again, he felt he had already taken enough risks to abandon this wish now, and also a mild impression that her presence here would mean more of those stupid choices to make. He cursed himself for allowing even indulgence towards her in the first place. She was a tool, a piece on the chessboard. A good piece, he’d grant her that; but a piece nevertheless. When the calculations of the game required that a piece be sacrificed, there should be no second thoughts about it.

 _You rarely sacrifice your Queen at chess,_ his father’s voice echoed in his head. Loki tensed up both physically and mentally. He had to be truly exhausted for his mind barriers to let Odin reach for his thoughts. He had to be careful.

Loki was one of the only ones to have detected the Allfather’s mind-reading trick, and had accordingly proceeded to shield from it. He’d had centuries to perfect his protection and could pride himself on being able to keep secrets from the King. But he feared that would hardly be possible this evening.

“Indeed,” Odin chuckled. “I require access to inform you on Eileen’s thoughts.”

Thankfully, Loki didn’t have to answer: they had reached the healing room. When he saw how many people were crowding the place, he felt murder run through his veins. He couldn’t exactly tell why, but it was related to everyone else but him knowing where Eileen had been taken. “Where is she?” he asked.

“Loki!” His head snapped on the left and he spotted the Lady Sif, waving at him from the far end of the vaulted room. He locked his gaze on the woman warrior’s black hair and cut through the crowd.

But he had to come to a sharp standstill when he almost crashed into Stark, damned Stark, blocking his way. They had carefully avoided looking at each other since the allies from S.H.I.E.L.D. had swarmed Asgard. He glared at the man, quickly looking away from the – what was this repelling hint in the brown pupils? Kindness?

“I sincerely hope she will be all right,” Stark said.

Loki froze over the statement but regained control. “I want you out of here,” he answered.

The people within earshot whispered. “Come on,” Stark protested, “I’m just trying to –”

Loki’s anger flared, laced with exhaustion. “I do not care for your childish concern, mortal!” he snapped. “Are you deaf or an idiot? I want you out.” Stark looked at him, utterly dumbfounded. “Get out!” Loki pointed at the door then let his arm fall back when he noticed the violent trembling of his hand. The obstacle had to be removed immediately, his body was screaming, and instinct had him reach for a blade. A figure wearing midgardian black garments shoved Stark away. Loki felt his father’s hand on his shoulder, urging him towards Sif, who stood there blinking. He shrugged the hand off and when he walked, the crowd parted to let him through. _Afraid, they’re all afraid, good, excellent, let them be terrified by the insane monster, let their nights be peopled by visions of the trickster god._

Another wave of anger hit him when he reached Sif. There, on the floor, unconscious, was Eileen. And Balder was pressing a large orange warming stone to her chest. Loki registered her burns, her closed eyes, the unnatural stillness of her body, but all his attention was compelled by the other man’s hand on her skin. He also processed that his reaction was far from making sense: the warming stone had to be maintained there to be fully efficient and kindle a pulse in her heart. But – this – no.

 _Nonsense, nonsense_ , his intelligence kept repeating. _Nonsense, would you rather see her dead than Balder’s hands on her? No, no, of course not,_ reason said. _Yes, yes,_ the wild pulse in his temples answered. He felt sick, sheer fatigue threatening to have the better of the control. He hadn’t been so physically bad since that day the green beast had tossed his body everywhere, the world a swirl of colour and pain where any gap left was filled with failure. This was the same, his plans were ruined, his only ally was gone and there was another man lying hands on the dead body of the woman he’d claimed as his. It didn’t help that the ally and the woman were the same person. Even Asgardian torture hadn’t succeeded in shaking him so deep. He breathed to calm down. He knew he made bad decisions when he gave in to anger or frustration.

But breathing wasn’t working; it was still Balder pressing a stone on Eileen’s chest, touching the burns on her hands, the burns on her face – Loki took a staggering step towards the scene, he didn’t know yet what for.

Thor slipped past him and whispered something into Sif’s ear. Her eyes shot open and she nodded before kneeling next to Eileen, wrapping her fingers around the stone, dislodging the other’s hand while Thor directed a bemused Balder away, far far from Loki’s sight, Loki hoped. He closed his eyes and waited until he was steadier to open them again and come close enough to bend over his – _yours; is she yours? Was she ever yours?_ – his woman.

She was still. Oh, so still. Sif ran the stone down towards her stomach. Nothing happened. “I can assure you that we have tried everything. We thawed her brain first, as the healing procedure dictates, but she had no reaction. Loki, I…” She didn’t finish her sentence and shook her head.

He didn’t answer, focussing on not letting the turmoil inside show on his face. He could not be seen emotionally weak; that was the sort of state these people would take advantage of. He detailed the gravity of the burns on Eileen’s hands and face, trying to assess the internal damage he’d caused; she’d caused; he didn’t know who had caused what anymore. The vilest detail of the vision was the absence of heaving, only indication that she was not simply asleep. He thought about what Sif had just said about the brain. The Allfather could most certainly tell him if he detected any trace of a thought; but Loki didn’t dare ask.

Just as he didn’t dare expand his perception to search for her power, pathetically afraid as he was of the eventuality that he wouldn’t find anything. He wasn’t just refusing reality, trying to warp it to suit his needs, through the manipulation of energy others called magic or otherwise. He was straightforward terrified of discovering the truth didn’t suit his wishes.

 _Control your mind,_ he commanded himself. _Nothing is certain yet. And if she is dead, what will you do? Break down, like Thor? Expose your weakness for everyone here to see and feast upon?_

“Eileen?” he said tentatively. She didn’t answer and Sif glanced up at him, surprise in her eyes. He clenched his teeth. It had been all for nothing. The sacrifice of his plans, the fight, the wound, the humiliation of begging for help. She was dead. Odin had said she’d live, but she was dead.

The Allfather had lied. Again.

Loki had played and lost.

Again.

Even when he bargained something as ridiculous as a woman’s life, her hands gripping his shoulders, the shadow on her face when she lied to him – _Silence!_ He ordered again. _Do you have the slightest idea of how ridiculous you sound?_ He rubbed his face with dirty hands, trying to forget his surroundings, and almost sat on the floor.

“Loki!” Thor called softly. He glared at his so-called brother, but the blond one didn’t seem to care. “Loki, her eyes!”

He looked at Eileen’s face again. The eyes were closed. But… perhaps… a little tighter. There were deeper wrinkles around her eyelids and she didn’t seem peaceful anymore. Pain. he would have recognized pain on her face any time. And if she was in pain –

She shivered. “She’s back!” Sif cried out.

“Eileen, can you hear me?” he asked. Sif’s other hand darted up and gripped his own tightly. That’s when something made its way into his comprehension: she was worried, concerned that Eileen was between life and death.

But that thought escaped when Eileen nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyelids fluttering but not opening. “Move,” he told Sif. She complied and he kneeled on the floor of the healing room, barely registering Odin’s chuckles, not even taking the time to despise the relief in his chest. He would have all the time to indulge in that specific activity later. Eileen was alive. Alive? She still didn’t seem to breathe adequately. “Keep that on her,” he ordered. Sif arched an eyebrow, plainly resenting the return of his commanding tones, but he ignored her. Breathe, Eileen. Breathe. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, relieved to feel her skin warm. He rested her head on his lap.

 _The pain is excruciating_ , Odin’s voice told him. Loki knew; he didn’t need his father to read her thoughts to realize that, he could see the suffering all over her face. Her eyes opened and settled on his; there were tears in the tired black pits. _She is in an extreme state of confusion. And so weak. She will live, Loki, but you must heal her inside as soon as possible._

“Eileen, I know you’re weak, but you must tell us: can you move your fingers?” She didn’t react otherwise than with a puzzled contraction of her brow.

“She needs treatment,” he heard Stark say. Then footsteps and muffled comments from the crowd. _I will not stand this another minute_ , he thought, hoping his father would take measures. Eileen shuddered a little and he saw she was breathing. Shallow and short intakes, but she was goddamn breathing!

“We have all the treatment needed,” Loki said. “I thought I had commanded you to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Stark replied angrily. “One of us is hurt and I –”

“She’s not one of yours.” _You will die, Stark, and I will make sure it’s long and painful._

Stark’s snicker was an insult in itself. “Oh please, I know you’ve painfully been trying to hide it, but she’s human, I’ve heard people talking.”

“Not anymore,” Odin’s calm voice answered. “Thor,” he added, “could you take everyone out, please?”

Loki felt something change in Eileen at the Allfather’s words. A flicker of energy, with a faint purple hue to it. He couldn’t identify the colour. _What is this power?_ Thor’s was silvery, his own was golden, and Odin’s – he realized he had never seen the glow of his father’s energy.

Eileen’s eyelids fluttered. “No, no, no, Eileen, don’t do that again.” His voice caught in his throat.

“You have to stay awake,” Sif explained to her. “We must know if you can move your hands. If you can, we’ll heal your face and throat immediately.”

The words seemed to reach Eileen and she lifted her arms. Her eyes shot open when she saw the blackened skin but she still flexed every finger carefully. That would be the easiest to heal, Loki wanted to tell her, to reassure her, but he didn’t know what to say. She touched her mouth with her fingers and looked up at him.

 _She remembered what happened_ , Odin projected, _and wonders if her face is in the same state._

“It’s even worse,” Loki said. He cursed his words when he caught the horror in her eyes. “Don’t worry,” he added, “sensations will be back before long.”

 _I doubt it is sensations she’s concerned with…_ Loki ignored his father’s remark.

“But the burns on the outside don’t matter,” Sif explained in a hurried voice. “They will heal on their own. The danger is that you were frozen from the inside. That device here has saved your brain, your heart and part of your lungs. But I still have to defrost many organs.” The warrior woman sighed. “I don’t even know how you survived. It would have been enough to kill three Asgardians.”

Loki wanted to know too. Now that she was safe, he understood why everyone else had tried to warn him of the only plausible outcome to her actions. She shouldn’t have lived at all after touching a Frost Giant – him – so long. _Do you know why?_ he asked his father, but no answer came. He would make him explain, Loki swore. Was this the rules the world obeyed? Stupid actions such as self-sacrifice shouldn’t be recompensed by unnatural survival. Not if his rules were to be followed.

But then Eileen would be lying in the snow. He refused to consider the notion that he might have been wrong and bent towards her ear. “That was so stupid a move to make that words are failing me,” he whispered, trying for an amused tone to convey both his relief and his irritation at making him want her alive, at the unfamiliar confusion he experienced where she was concerned, at the succession of foolish reactions it had entailed. At the way she had found into his heart.

 _She says she will never do such a thing again even for you. Because of the pain_ , Odin’s voice reached through Loki’s disorganized thinking. That definitely sounded like something she would say. At the very least her mind was fully functional, it seemed.

This brought his attention back to what was _not_ functional yet and he nudged Sif.

“I am going to take the warming stone away from your heart and move it up to your throat,” she told Eileen. “You didn’t notice it earlier because you were unconscious, but the thawing is very, very painful. The other half of your lungs is still frozen, that’s why it hurts when you breathe, and that’s why you have to stop.”

Loki instantly knew from her expression that she had not understood a word. He closed his fingers around her jaw and gently pulled her face so she would look at him. “Listen to me. I want you to hold your respiration as long as the stone isn’t back on your heart. You can’t master its beating and this will cause sufficient pain without the agony of trying to breathe without that.” His fingernail drummed on the stone. Again, he realized his words had been harsher than what he would have wanted them to be. “Of course, once we are finished, you will have to refrain from talking. Do you think you’ll be capable of doing so?” He smiled and Eileen nodded.

“I’ll count to three,” Sif warned. “One.” Eileen’s eyes locked with his. “Two.” She breathed out. “Three.” Her eyes shot open.

 _Please don’t describe her thoughts when she’s in pain_ , he projected towards his father.

_I had no intention of doing so. Contrary to what you seem to believe, I am not cruel, Loki._

He was about to answer when Eileen’s hand closed tight over a fold of his tunic, almost tearing it by the violence of her shaking. His heart accelerated under the strain of the inner conflict he was experiencing. He wanted to rip the stone off her and make the torture stop, but she had to heal. He could sense the energy inside her quake and shrink under the physical strain and understood it would prove a problem if pain damaged her power. He would have to teach her resistance, he knew it, and he dreaded having to face that day. He forced an expression of calm assurance on his face, knowing it was the best he could achieve. He noticed that there wasn’t a tear in her eyes. She cried when angry, not in agonizing pain.

His Eileen. His fingers contracted around her shoulder.

As soon as Sif moved the stone down again, something like peace reappeared on Eileen’s face. Her lips moved, the words ‘It worked’ forming. Loki frowned. “Of course it worked. Did you not believe me?”

“She’s safe,” Odin said. And this time Loki knew his father wasn’t lying.

Eileen turned to the Allfather, an expression of deep discontent on her face, and her lips parted. “I told you not to speak,” Loki stopped her. “You will be in a better state soon. Be patient.” Her gaze focussed back on him.

 _You have nothing to worry about, Loki. From the thoughts I hear, she wants to stay as long as possible._ He looked up at his father as Sif positioned Eileen’s hand on the warming stone before walking out ever so quietly, leaving the three of them alone in the vast healing room.

‘She wants to stay’ was the only thought at the forefront of Loki’s mind. _And… Will you allow it? Will you keep your word?_

“Yes, Loki,” Odin answered out loud. “I don’t think she even realizes what she’s just done. I used to think it was the other way around, but now I believe she might be too good for you.” Loki felt Eileen shaking her head. “But I still need her to see, truly, deeply see the consequences.”

“Father. Not now.” _We will have all the time in the world for this later._

“Yes, now. If she stays without acknowledging who she is, who she has become, whose voice is the second one when she’s angry, then it will never work. There are many sorts of magic you still have to discover, Loki. Powerful forces even your former ally fears so much he never even mentioned it to you, forces you may only use within strict rules.”

_Forces? What magical forces could there be that I do not know about?_

_I will explain everything to you later,_ Odin answered.

Somehow Loki doubted this very much.

“She has to find her name.” Then his eyes darted back at Eileen. . “Your new name. Your name in this story. Fair Victory Weaver.”

 _For Yggdrasil’s sake_ , Odin practically screamed in Loki’s head, _I have answered one of her thoughts. She guessed I can read her._

But Loki couldn’t care less about Eileen sharing this secret. “Is it in the books?” he asked. The name riddle had an unbearable weight, at that moment, and he couldn’t imagine what could be so important about it.

Odin laughed. “Yes, yes it is. In some of them. But to find it she must search in the details that were, most of the time, overlooked. In many threads you are associated with obligation and duty.” He smiled. “Search among my own many names, scholar. It might help.”

_What are you trying to have her find?_

_Again, I will explain everything later._

Again, Loki doubted it.

_The goal I am seeking is to secure her staying, Loki! Have no fear, I know the intricacies of her mind; she must believe she is making a choice._

Eileen’s head jerked up all of a sudden, her eyes fixated on the Allfather. “You have it, now,” he said. “I suspected,” Odin continued, and Loki realized Eileen was talking to him too. The situation displeased him; it allowed his father far too much control over what information passed between him and Eileen. _What is this name?_

 _I believe it would be more appropriate for her to tell you._ “I wondered where we’d find her in this thread,” Odin continued out loud. “I couldn’t see anyone like her, nobody who matched the descriptions. A woman who would be faithful enough, who would cling to her word strongly enough to take on the part; to cope with her own dismal future. Because you know what it means, don’t you, accepting that name?” Silence pulsed while Eileen formed a mental answer. “At first, I wasn’t so sure,” Odin continued. “You seemed unable, unwilling to keep your word, Eileen Weaver, how could you be loyal? How could you respect a vow you made? This is why I deliberately confused you, so you wouldn’t discover what I deemed as the unwanted truth on your own.”

 _Confused us?_ Loki reacted. _Does this mean you’ve been tampering with both our minds?_ Odin smiled and ignored his son’s outraged thoughts. “But then I understood: I was clinging to a false image, based on already existing threads of story. I should have known that in this one, everything was bound to be different. Loki would never make anyone, man or woman, stay with him out of obligation. You wouldn’t accept suffering out of duty, not even out of love, but because deep down in your heart, in your bones, you believe he’s right. Because you want to cause as much trouble as he does. Hence what I asked you weeks ago: what would we have done of a good-natured human?”

 _Weeks ago?_ Loki experienced the sick feeling he always had when a situation escaped his control and his understanding. Worse, he understood that it had _never_ been under his control. He made Eileen’s head turn to him. “What is he talking about?”

And he felt it again. Her power, blazing purple and black, invading her limbs, her face, her bones, shining on her skin, a rage of energy reaching all the way up to him. He almost dropped her in surprise. _What is this power?_ he asked. _What can it do?_

_She will be stronger and quicker. You can teach her fighting._

_That I know, do you think me an idiot? What else have you granted her? Where does it come from? Do all midgardians contain potential power like her?_ Her grip over his arm as she pushed herself up was tougher that it had ever been, even after her transformation. Her touch sent sparkles crackling up to his scalp, making his hair bristle.

_Of course not, Loki. I shared a little of mine with her._

_Yours?_ Word power. A little of word power and he had it just there, in his Eileen, almost under his control. This changed everything. He tried to shield the planning this thought was starting to provoke. Oh, there was no version of this where she was leaving. Power. The two syllables rung in such a harmony with her lithe frame.

_Loki, don’t get ahead of yourself. I forbid you to tell her. I forbid you to force her into using it against anyone. I will maintain her power dormant until I deem both of you worthy of it. I am not a fool, my son. I can tell what you are imagining, at this moment._

Loki’s lips and tongue sealed with the almighty interdiction. But it didn’t matter because he would discover how to force Odin to grant her the totality of her power. Eileen straightened her back and set her gaze on the Allfather, who smiled. “If you were asked now,” he said, “would you decide to stay here?”

She turned to Loki. _Find it in you to ask her, and she’s all yours,_ Odin projected before simply walking away, leaving them alone.

Loki scanned Eileen’s ravaged face and assessed the vibrant energy that was already settling back to a constant purr. He wondered if she experienced it as such, and realized he would only have to ask her. Both the woman and her power would be under his authority soon. He concealed a shiver of expectation. “Will you tell me what you have understood?” She nodded. “And I want you to tell me of the stories in the books. Will you do that?” She nodded again.

He took a deep breath. Word power. “Eileen, I think I know what answer you will give me because I can’t see why you would refuse. Will you stay in Asgard? Will you stay here and be my ally?”

She nodded for the third time. _Not alone._ The thought echoed under his skull. _Power; not alone._ He slid his fingers behind her neck, gripping her soft hair, and kissed her. He allowed relief and satisfaction to break free inside him and held her closer, deepening his kiss, revelling in the unexpected security of her embrace. Her lips parted, kindling an eerie burning throughout his body. _Not alone._ Her energy purred louder. _Some of the Allfather’s power; make her a weapon to wield; trim her magic, make her ready; under my control._ _Mine; mine; mine._

He basked in sheer satisfaction until she separated from his lips. “I think I love you, Loki.”

The words hurt like hot metal to his skin and he cringed, reason reducing to shreds anything else but doubt and caution. _Not alone._ He swallowed. He would have to take drastic measures to stifle the unwanted churning of his stomach her confession was creating. “You talk too much, Eileen Weaver. There are lies the best tongue can’t forge, and I will not attempt it.”

She laughed and reached for his lips again. The mere contact soothed him. His Eileen. _Not alone. Power._

_Not alone._


End file.
